


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by seamanthedog



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, just a whole lot of snow and sweaters and adorable teenage boys, mild swearing but not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:39:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamanthedog/pseuds/seamanthedog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Looking over at Marco, Jean unconsciously reaches to brush some stray snow from his hair. Marco glances down, a blooming blush darkening his cheeks. Marco’s blush makes Jean blush, although he wishes he didn’t.</p>
  <p>It was still new for him to make little offhand touches like this. It was weird for him moving from friendship to something more, especially with their new relationship only a few weeks old. Nothing had really changed since they made similar confessions around their shared family thanksgiving holiday, but Jean really wanted Marco to know he liked him. As in liked-liked him, liked him so much he was willing to study for calculus over break even when kissing was better, or eat some of those awful pfeffernusse cookies he liked to make during Christmas.  </p>
</blockquote><p>Snow, sweaters, and like-liking Marco Bott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OverMyFreckledBody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/gifts).



> I tried to incorporate snow, cold weather, and cuddling (sorta) I hope my giftee likes it! 
> 
> Not really beta'd (sorry!) hopefully I can get around to it later.

It starts with a single snowball. Jean barely sees it flying through the air when it smacks right into his face. It's a blur of all white and freezing cold as snow slips down into his coat. He does a remarkable little jig to get it all out in tune to Marco's laughter from across the street.

Eren and Armin also join in, Eren particularly finding it hilarious since he's doubled over. Jean feels the slow creep of heat rise to his cold cheeks and glares. He doesn't think, just reacts, and grabs a snowball of his own. The snow is soft, not very good for snowballs, but he makes it work.

By this time Marco, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin have scattered, each grabbing snow of their own.

"What is this?! Four against one isn't fair!"

Jean ducks as Eren lobs a snowball toward him, the other’s grating voice filling the chilly winter air, “Life isn’t fair!”

“Witty comeback, shithead!” Jean growls out before he chucks a snowball toward Eren’s retreating back. It misses, and he’s already reaching down to scoop another up. There’s sudden crunching behind him and Jean whirls with his arm already raised and poised to strike.

Marco stops mid-step and lifts his hands in surrender. “Wait!” His voice drops just below a whisper, and a grin Jean has been privy to throughout much of his childhood graces Marco’s face, it's equal parts mischievous and innocent. “Let’s ambush them. Armin and Mikasa are hiding behind those bushes over there.” As a sign of good will Marco even hands him a pre-made snowball and Jean takes the opportunity to launch it at Eren’s head peeking out from behind a car. It just grazes his face and Jean whoops in victory. It’s short-lived as an avalanche comes flying at both Marco and him.

Somewhere between his scrambling for cover his backpack ends up in a snow pile but he doesn’t care. With Christmas break just starting, he doesn’t need it anyway. He regrets it when Armin and Mikasa come at them with a volley of snow and he ends up catching the brunt of it while Marco laughs behind his backpack shield.

“Marco, you ass, help me!” His voice hits a high octave as snow slips down into his coat and melts against his bare skin.

“I’m sorry, Jean! But one of us must live on!”

The others are distracted with covering Jean in snow and he watches with ice cold betrayal in his heart as Marco scurries away. His cries are buried under pure white and he knows death by hypothermia must be near.

Having fallen into a pile of snow from the onslaught, he ninja rolls to the side and pushes himself up to sprint away.

However, the snow ball fight ends quickly after that, with Armin’s shrill surrender because he’s “late to work!”

Jean would like to think they put up a good fight, but even without factoring in Armin’s surprise on top of car attack, Mikasa had pummeled them with snowballs through speed and brute strength. He’s not too sad though, since he’d been able to get Eren in the face a few times. He grins smugly and lifts his middle finger in the air as Eren turns to flip him off as well, the three of them leaving together like they normally did.

Jean turns the opposite direction to head home, casting his gaze expectantly toward Marco. He can’t wait to wake up at noon every day and play video games. Sure, he has a few projects for school but he doesn’t plan to start any of them until the day before school starts back up. Plus, Marco would be spending most of his time with Jean, like they normally did over any extended school holidays, and he was looking forward to wiping the floor with him in Call of Duty.

On the way home Jean feels some of the melted snow starting to seep through his winter gloves. His teeth chatter a little as they make their way to his house.

“Man, I hope my mom will let me get a car soon.” He’s whining, because it's too damn cold outside to be walking and he can hear it in his voice, but Marco just smiles genially, having heard this same complaint many times before.

“I thought she said you have to pass your driving test first?”

Jean scowls because he would’ve passed the test if it weren’t for the written portion. “I know how to drive. They shouldn’t make the stupid written test harder than the driving one!”

Marco just smiles, like he always does when Jean is being a certain way. It makes him roll his eyes and gently shove the other one to the side. Marco laughs then and Jean suddenly remembers the betrayal from earlier. With sudden speed he grabs some snow and dumps it upon Marco’s unsuspecting head.

The subsequent squeal fills him with utter delight.

“Hah, paybacks a bitch!” Jean laughs then, completely taken by Marco’s stricken face. The other just sighs, resigned, and smiles again, attempting to brush off the snow.

“I guess I deserved that…”

Looking over at Marco, Jean unconsciously reaches to brush some stray snow from his hair. Marco glances down, a blooming blush darkening his cheeks. Marco’s blush makes Jean blush, although he wishes he didn’t.

It was still new for him to make little offhand touches like this. It was weird for him moving from friendship to something more, especially with their new relationship only a few weeks old. Nothing had really changed since they made similar confessions around their shared family thanksgiving holiday, but Jean really wanted Marco to know he liked him. As in liked-liked him, liked him so much he was willing to study for calculus over break even when kissing was better, or eat some of those awful pfeffernusse cookies he liked to make during Christmas.

He wanted to show Marco he liked him and he was looking forward to the chance.

Finally reaching his house Jean takes the steps up the porch two at a time, ready to get inside and warm up. He checks his pockets for his keys. He can’t find them.

He’s careful not to look at Marco as he nonchalantly opens his backpack. Searching through pockets he still can’t find them. In vain he tries to jiggle the handle, hoping against all hope that the door opened.

"Fuck!"

He hisses the words out and jiggles the handle again. His keys aren't in his pocket which means he can't get into his house for another hour—not until his mom gets home.

He casts a glance over to Marco. Marco's eyebrows lifts questioningly before his eyes glance over to the locked door. "Don't tell me you don't have your keys..."

Jean shrugs because what else can he do.

"When will your mom be home?"

"5..." He hunches his shoulders up a bit from the cold and looks anywhere but at Marco. While he was looking forward to playing some video games he had been looking forward more to the makeout session that would ensue before then. He didn’t like to kiss with his mom in the house and the time alone was perfect for putting the moves on Marco.

He stomps around in frustration, but also in an attempt to warm up and lets out a slew of curses.

“Come on, let’s see if the back door is open.” Marco’s voice is calm, reassuring, the perfect Jean salve. He follows, temper only slightly soothed.

Jean knows the backdoor is locked too but he tries it for Marco anyway. This time he bites his tongue but he’s sure the scowl on his face mirrors whatever swear words he wants to say. Marco stands still for a minute before tugging on his sleeve.

“Let’s wait in the tree house! I mean, it’s probably still pretty cold but it might be a bit warmer.”

At the mention of the tree house Jean glances up. It was an old thing, there even before Jean and his mother moved into their small home. Still, it had lived through many an adventure—including captive princes and many a hide and seek game—and weathered rain and snow storms. Having no better option he walks over to the trunk of the tree.

Grabbing hold of the frayed and slightly broken rope ladder he hauls himself up. It's slow going up, especially with the snow causing his hands to go numb and his fear of snapping the rope with his weight. When he reaches the top he grabs for Marco's hand and yanks him up. Marco staggers but rights himself with a laugh that makes the air billow around his face. The tree house is only marginally warmer and Jean's half afraid if he steps in the wrong place he'll end up falling through.

But he remains upright while walking around, his gaze catching on the children's table and chair set in the middle of the tree house, along with the raggedy old full size mattress in the corner from younger summer time sleepovers.

"Hey, remember in fifth grade when you had a crush on Annie and you invited her to spend the night in here...by herself." Jean can hear the snicker in Marco's voice without even looking. He can also imagine the rosey red of his cheeks from the cold. He turns anyway to see them and purposefully rolls his eyes so the other can see.

“My mom said I couldn’t invite her for a sleepover in my room so I improvised!”

Marco continues laughing and plops down onto the mattress. Jean suppresses a wince as the tree house creaks. He’s met with a sheepish grin from Marco. Finding no reason not to, Jean joins him and sits down. Marco scoots closer so his leg lines up with Jean’s and it takes all of his willpower not to look over as Marco does it. As if sensing Jean’s question, Marco whispers in a soft-laughing tone, “Sharing body heat can keep us warm and all that.”

Jean runs hot and cold all-over at that. Now’s his chance, he can feel it, so he casually reaches for Marco’s hand. He misses, with his fingers frozen and still incased in gloves. He tries to play it off but his hand ends up on Marco’s knee.

“Jean…?”

He pulls back, fast, and pulls of his gloves. “Sorry. I just can’t feel my hands.”

Marco suddenly shifts back and starts to unzip his coat and take it off. Jean splutters and his hands wave mid-motion because he’s dreamt about Marco undressing for him but not inside a tree house in freezing weather.

Once Marco frees himself from his coat, he quickly pulls at the knitted green Christmas sweater he’s wearing, a giant reindeer gracing the front. It’s one his grandmother knitted for him, Jean can tell, because he had received a red one last year. She had said boys should always have something warm during the winter. If only she knew how warm he was feeling due to her grandson at the moment.

Finally yanking it free, and revealing another sweater, this one an ugly orange, he pushes it into Jean’s hands.

“Here, I think the sleeves are long enough to cover your hands.”

He holds the sweater for a moment, looking completely dumbstruck. Marco just smiles, as always, and motions for him to put it on. He hurriedly yanks his coat off and slips it on. Marco’s right, the sleeves hang past his hands, something he’d normally complain about. It was a little unfair, Marco was taller than him but currently, with the warmth from Marco’s body heat seeping into him, and the faint pine smell, probably from Marco’s Christmas tree, all the complaints die on his tongue. Instead, he smiles. Marco returns the smile, and adds a quick kiss to his lips.

Even freezing his ass off, Jean still cannot stop smiling and attempts to suavely pull Marco back for another kiss. He ends up knocking his forehead against Marco’s and swears.

Marco snorts and shoves his shoulder. “Way to kill the mood.”

But Marco’s hand creeps into the inside of Jean’s coat and grabs a hold of the bunched up fabric the overly large sweater creates at his wrist. Jean likes it, the way Marco’s sweater slips past the tips of his fingers; he’s always liked wearing Marco’s shirts whenever he hung out at the other’s house and needed an extra. Something about being smaller for once, felt good, safe, warm, and of course having something of Marco’s was nice too. Thinking on it now the tips of his ears begin to burn and he recognizes why he likes it so much. He figures he doesn’t need to tell Marco how much he likes him. Especially when Marco’s looking at him in that soft, amused way he has, as if Jean is always the funniest person he knows, the smartest, the cutest. Because if Marco’s looking at him in that way, he must know Jean thinks his freckles are his favorite constellation, his laugh is the only one he makes jokes for, and that his lips are always the softest even when they aren’t that soft.

Marco tugs on the fabric and Jean is already leaning in to meet Marco’s soft, pliant lips. They’re cold, and chapped, but they’re so very, very warm. In-between breaths and puffs of their air billowing between them he thinks it doesn’t seem so cold outside after all.

**Author's Note:**

> First jeanmarco fic so I hope some of you liked it.


End file.
